


Transforming Identities

by EtoileVoidGalaxia



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game)
Genre: Autobots - Freeform, Beta Wanted, Decepticons - Freeform, Gaslighting, Lots of things are prone to change as the story progresses., Manipulation, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible character death (I haven't decided yet), Stalking, Yandere, crossover AU, identity v au, reader has no specified gender, reader is lucky person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26353306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileVoidGalaxia/pseuds/EtoileVoidGalaxia
Summary: You were the ‘lucky’ one here.In this mansion, taunted with the offer of an irresistible prize, you are to survive this game accompanied with all manner of survivors, teaming up in groups of four. They had skills to aid one another in this game, the ability to dismantle the chairs, the ability to heal one another. You were just lucky-- and barely lucky at that. You were simply the luckiest out of a group of people with terrible luck.Your luck when you met Optimus, was another example of your debatable lucky-ness. On one hand, you've become deemed a traitor by your fellow humans, on the other, you know more about this game than any of them do.So, lucky one. When the cards fall where will you stand? With the hunters or survivors?
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	1. The Lucky One

**Author's Note:**

> I've posted this work before, and to all the people who read it and commented on it- i sincerely apologize for deleting it. I posted this on a whim at first then panicked when I realized this thing had little to no plot. I felt bad just leaving it to rot with only one chapter, but I had no idea where to go next. I thought about orphaning the work but again, it's just one chapter. I thought I'd feel better deleting it entirely, but when I did, I felt really guilty recalling the few, but nice comments I had gotten on it. So, I decided to keep working on it. I don't work directly on ao3 so I reworked the stuff I had on the google doc, and worked on figuring out the plot. It took some time, (not that much compared to others tho lol) but I started working on it again. The first chapter isn't really different, but the summary and over all direction definitely is.

Invited to a manor in the middle of nowhere, players are invited to participate in a game with the promise of a prize. A prize so grand, many people sought to obtain it, that they would do anything to win it. A prize so grand it could wipe away all your problems.

The game was cruel and hard, the possibility of death looming over every hit. One wrong move and you could easily be mush in the hunter's grasp. Yet the promise of the reward motivated you to continue, forcing you to keep going.

After all, you were lucky to be here in the first place….

...except you didn’t feel lucky. 

Maybe at first, you did, when you realized what everyone had come to this manor in the middle of nowhere looking for. You felt pretty damn lucky to be looped in for such a reward even if you had no special qualities. You weren’t a nurse like Jack Darby, son of a well renowned Doctor, or Rafael Esquivel (everyone called him Raf) a prodigy lawyer with skills in technology, or even the brave and bold Gardener, Miko Nakadai who somehow knew how to dismantle just about anything. Truth be told you didn’t actually know any of them before they introduced themselves, so maybe they weren’t as well renowned as you thought. Maybe you actually had a chance against them to win this grand prize. 

Then they explained it to you.

The game, the rules, the consequences. You were all toys to this game master, sending monsters after you to chase you around with the temptation of escape. You didn’t even know how to win anymore. If you escaped, would you still get the prize? Was that prize even worth it? You did need it though. You needed that prize and you were lucky to get such a chance to obtain it. You were lucky to be here.

You didn’t feel very lucky. 

Jack shushed you for what felt like the hundredth time, even though you hadn't said anything. It seemed to be more for him than you, as he quivered in his seat glancing around like a guilty child. Even Miko, who never shut up even after the rules were announced, was eerily silent, eyes wide and trained on the cobweb infested silverware that rested on an equally dingy and abandoned table. Raf seemed to be calmest, but you could see the sweat glittering down his neck. He chose to divert all his attention to the curtains before you, the only thing keeping you from seeing your enemy, your hunter.

Or perhaps it was the only thing keeping the ‘hunter’ from catching you early.

The sharp sound of fabric rustling roused you from your thoughts, but the curtains had not moved an inch. 

“Over there,” Raf hissed nodding his head towards a curtain at the side, pulled back with string to reveal a steel door, the kind you’d see in a jailhouse, ajar and leading to the outside world. Your battlefield. 

Miko leapt out of her seat, making a momentary show of bravery before she marched off with her toolbox, an item she had due to her “role”. Jack followed her example, picking up his syringe, and bravely striding to what may as well be his death. You didn’t know how that would help, and still thought he should have gotten a full first aid kit, unlike the packets of bandages everyone had stuffed into their pockets. Raf followed after him, head hung low as he reviewed his map for the hundredth time. Perhaps you should have spoken to him before the match started, after all, you couldn’t talk in game, another one of many rules the game master held. Only short pre-set messages were allowed using your communicator, but then again you didn’t really want to talk to the others— lest you be heard by the hunter.

Sending a final fleeting glance to the large curtain, you stood, empty handed, and made your way to the door, just barely catching the voice behind the curtain.

“How curious.”

You didn’t dare look back, and ran out the door.

* * *

You awoke, jolting up from the cold ground. You didn’t recall falling asleep, nor did you recall the outside looking like… this. Nonetheless you jumped off of the ground, and began to look around your surroundings. You could think about how you got here later on. After all, it would be humiliating to get caught by the hunter within the first minute. 

Your communicator vibrated on your arm, alerting you to a message sent by Jack. “Focus on decoding!”

Right. Decoding. How do you do that again? You shook your head, and forced yourself to move. Again, you didn’t want to be a sitting duck. Looking upwards, you caught sight of a tall antenna sticking out above the crumbling walls. That was it right? It looked familiar. Nearing it, you could hear someone typing away at something, spinning dials and making the machine whirr in reply. You hopped through a window surprising your other teammates into jerking back from their decoding. A loud buzz and an electrical shock ripped through the machine hitting Raf badly. Jack made a momentary check on the younger boy, but found he was overall rather fine.

Raf sighed, sending you a silent glare before he returned to decoding. Like Miko and Jack you watched his movements a while before joining in and trying to help him. You weren’t sure if you were speeding the task up or slowing him down, but you hoped you were helping.

_Thump, Thump—_

You pulled back from the machine, shuddering and sweating. Your heart was hammering in your chest, screaming at you to run away. What was going on? What was— you saw someone in the distance, a silhouette save for the bright red light emanating from their gaze. Miko yelped as the machine electrocuted her for a failed calibration, and that bright red light swiveled towards you. 

_Thump, thump, thump—_

Two red lights made themselves known amidst the darkness, glaring straight at you. The hunter strode towards you, slow and cautious but all the more threatening. Like an animal stalking its prey. A _hunter_ , stalking its prey.

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—_

You whipped around and ran in the other direction trying to get as far away from the hunter as possible. Did they attack the others? Hopefully they were as smart as they had let on and fled after seeing you go.

Your communicator buzzed, Miko’s Icon filled halfway with golden light. A notification that she had been hit. If you recalled, you would only be able to survive two hits from the hunter before you’d be rendered incapacitated and tied down to a rocket chair. Sent blasting off to the mansion. You shuddered at the thought.

A red gleam caught your eye, not the threatening hue of the hunter’s gaze, but instead, a box of sorts. Confused, but curious you opened the box and rummaged around looking through its contents, hoping for something _—_ anything— to help you get away, help you avoid the hunters. Something to help you win this match. 

You pulled a gun from the chest.

Probably a flare gun, by the process of elimination, being too bulky to be a normal gun. a single shot with the ability to harm the hunter— or at the very least blind them. It clipped to your pants easily, and you ran off once more in search of a cypher machine. 

You learned from your last mistake, working together in one place made you an easy target but luckily you picked up how to work the machines from that experience. You played your cards carefully, doing your best on every calibration check so as not to activate the buzzer and electrical shock that would no doubt harm you. The light above switched on, notifying you, and your team of a job well done, and to the hunter, the whereabouts of a survivor. You bolted away, searching for your next cypher machine.

Despite the circumstances, there seemed to be a degree of radio silence during this match, your last few messages many minutes ago. You checked it to see how many machines needed decoding before your release, you completed one, so you hoped for three or possibly two left. You stopped in your tracks momentarily watching as Miko’s avatar suddenly leapt to full, changed to show her being dragged away to inevitably being tied down. 

Your feet began moving before you could think. You ran around searching for the chair keeping Miko captive, forgetting entirely to send a message on your communicator. It only took a little while, Miko’s countdown still a while away from sending her off. The only issue was that the hunter was still nearby. She rummaged around looking at nearby hiding areas, behind walls and trees, searching for any heroic survivors seeking to save a teammate. Survivors like you. 

You made eye contact with the creature for a moment, diving back down into your hiding place. You couldn’t see her, but your heart pounded it’s protest against your chest. Why weren’t you moving? You wanted to save Miko, yet you wanted to flee at the same time. 

“Run! Run! You can’t save someone if you're dead!” you screamed internally, forcing your legs to move.

You burst from your hideaway, casting a bold glance over your shoulder to see if the hunter perhaps ran to circle around and get you to run right into their arms. Yet the blue hunter was walking in a completely different direction. They were going back to Miko. You followed behind, sneaking by the hunter to find what had piqued their— 

Jack. 

He was just hiding in the bushes and sneaking towards Miko with the intent of untying her. Even as the hunter loomed over him, Jack stood by Miko, syringe clasped in his hand he stood around for a while as if asking to be attacked, but the hunter simply turned away. In fact, it turned to face you. Jack took the moment to free Miko, working quickly to free her from her binds, as quickly as he could. All the while the hunter bore it's gaze into you somehow keeping you frozen in terror as it raised an arm slowly into the air. Arms raised, You braced for impact, hoping you could withstand the hit, and not immediately crumble. The attack never came

“Isn't that nice,” the hunter cooed, a feminine voice laced with static. “Playing hero are we? A commendable effort.” 

Terror and shock scrawled on his face, Jack lay on the ground trembling and trying to crawl away. The unexpected attack left even you shocked in place reacting by pure instinct, or perhaps desperation. You begged the universe above and below that you wouldn’t screw this up. That you wouldn’t miss. That the flare gun you had aimed for the hunter’s back would actually do something. 

The bullet exploded on contact, a painful blow surely, but barely left a scratch on her metal skin. Lucky for you however, the flare surrounded her in dust and light leaving her momentarily discombobulated and letting you get to Miko and Jack. 

You freed Miko first, letting her run away, then turned your attention to Jack's aid, surprised to find him already running away. You’d have to ask him about that--

The feeling of blunt metal hitting you on the back of your head was awful, as if getting hit by a speeding car. Despite the pain you burst into a sprint, fleeing from the hunter as fast as you could, you toppled over stray wooden pallets in an attempt to keep a distance between you and her. It took her a precious few seconds to crush the wood, seconds you spent getting your arse as far away as you could.

It took a few palettes and the discovery of her slower vaulting ability, to get to a reasonable distance where your heart wasn’t hammering away in your chest, but you finally felt at least safe enough to raid another nearby chest and check up on the rest of the team. 

Miko seemed to have gotten healed back up, while Jack and Raf continued to spam messages of “Focus on decoding”, and from the looks of it, you were in the home stretch, with one cypher machine left for you to decode.

If you’re lucky, no one else would be captured and you’ll be able to evade and escape that hunter all the way to your victory. Except—

—you didn’t feel lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky, lucky you. 
> 
> If you read the first version of this you'll notice that arcee now has a face. The first time I wrote this I gave her that faceless design on a whim. I actually haven't watched TFA yet (where the concept comes form apparently) and I didn't know how it worked. So, now she has a face. 
> 
> The first chapter isn't as substantial as it could be I'll admit. Because of that it's very likely I'll go back and make some minor edits to fit the rest of the story as it comes along.


	2. Unlucky Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How unlucky do you have to be to land smack down in the middle of the monsters' lair? How lucky do you have to be to get out again?

Whatever luck you had or were granted, ran itself dry by the end of the match. 

The hunter took down Jack and dared not let him out of her sight, let alone let him get loose again. You found and used another gun on her, but by the time you got back and freed Jack, he was already really close to blasting off. So, when the hunter knocked him down again your plan to follow and attempt a rescue only ended with you getting caught. You spammed your communicator urging Raf and Miko to go ahead without you— a tie was better than a win, after all.

Right?

The blast off from a chair with firework rockets attached like some sort of craft project was about horrific as you could imagine. It spiralled off into the sky as the barbed wire that held you in place dug into your skin. The rockets trembled more than you did, only they seemed to mock you with their shivers. Rattling and threatening to come off of your chair at any moment leaving you behind to fall to your death. At this rate, you weren’t entirely sure if you would even reach the mansion— if that was the goal that is. What if the punishment for losing was death? Were these rocket chairs used to kill? Was the goal of the game to kill off the players one by one until there was one left?

Fueled by the remaining adrenaline in your system fear told your body to flee and panic, but tied down, you could only hyperventilate. Gasping in the cold air as if you were still running from the hunter. The rapid rate of breathing did not get as much oxygen in you as it would if you were breathing more deeply and you could feel yourself growing light headed. Suffocated by the whims of your own body, what a way to go.

Amidst the chaos, a thought occurred to you: if you struggled enough, perhaps you’d land on the roof instead of splat down onto stone or whatever death trap lay ahead of you. Such a plan was far more riskier and dangerous than your panicked brain would like to acknowledge, but it was a solution nonetheless. Much better than doing nothing and getting killed.

You thrashed, the barbed wires digging deeper into your skin at every push forward. Not wanting to end up getting cut with worse injuries, you try to bury yourself back into the chair instead. Your feet, the only thing that could move freely were useless at getting you free from your bind, so you chose to kick and thrash at the chair legs and hoping you could somehow kick the fireworks rockets tied to the back legs, or perhaps knock yourself off course.

Amidst your thrashing, you could hear the fireworks sputter to a halt, their screams softened for a few moments, slowing you enough that the chair, in its momentary suspension, made a nose dive, only to sputter back to life and send you spiralling through the roof. Your screams ripped and clawed your throat sore as tiles and wood, and the barbs on top of it all, did the same to your flesh. Rubble flew every which way, obscuring your view, yet you could still clearly see—

—Bright red eyes glaring you down.

The crash snapped you out of your spiralling dismay and horror. What remained of the chair burst into various bits and splintered parts, tearing through the soft material you landed in. No longer bound to the chair, you landed on your stomach, taking the brambles with you and forcing you to lie upon them, but you landed atop a pile of mattresses, cast aside like a bunch of pillows. It was considerably soft compared to everything you had just experienced, and for a moment you thought about passing out then and there.

“Are you alright?” 

You didn’t move. You knew exactly what loomed over you and you’d much rather cut your losses and pretend to be knocked out rather than get hit over the head again. With the state you were in you were sure another hit would render you unconscious. The hunter you met was considerably smaller than these ones. Knowing how badly her hits felt, you could only imagine the brain damage you’d get from one of them.

“Rude,” someone else muttered only to be promptly scolded by the first voice.

“Bulkhead. They might have been knocked out, or at the very least afraid.”

Bulkhead replied with a feeble, “sorry prime,” muttered under his breath.

Although you couldn’t see who exactly loomed over you you could recognize when you were being observed, such as right now, when the bright red glow of the hunter’s gaze became your spotlight. Just as it did in the match.

“You are a lucky little one,” the first voice said, his deep voice echoing through you. “We were just about to remove those from here.”

The cold touch of metal danced along your sides, plucking and flinging away debris from your frail body. You had more wounds than you thought and were grateful that you didn’t move when you felt it brush against a large splinter of wood digging into your back. You could feel the hand grasp it about to pull it out only—

“Eyep, eyep, eyep! Don’t you dare take that out unless you want it to lose all of its fluids. Leave it in there until I wield the wound shut,” a new voice instructed.

Wielded? As in welding metal? Or did they mean burn it shut? Was it really so bad? You contemplated your chances of escaping, getting up and running away to Jack and the others despite your wounds. They at least knew how to bandage you. 

Your dreams of escape were dashed when metallic fingers wrapped themselves carefully around you. They dodged your wounds and cradled you in their hand like a little puppy. From here, you could see them now, metallic monsters that looked over you, the tallest— the one holding you now— stood at least 9 feet tall, painted in a faded red and blue, and could hold you easily in one large hand. Another stood a few paces away, painted in dulled and dented orange and white and wielding a large blowtorch. 

“That isn’t how humans heal you know.” 

Your head snapped in the direction of the familiar glitchy feminine voice. Her presence caught the others’ attention as well.

“Arcee, your voice box—” Arcee raised a metal hand, waving the orange hunter off.

“They wrap the wounds with fabrics, I saw them do so to one another during the match.” Arcee looked you over making no move to attack, but seeming rather disgusted instead. “Why the slag is one of those ‘survivors’ here?”

“They crashed through the roof on a rocket chair. It must have been faulty, seeing as they were the only one who crashed in.”

Arcee scoffed, crossing her arms and striding out of your line of sight. “Just return it to the others. They’ll think we killed one of them.”

Despite the minor threat, the one who held you sent you a soft smile. He could easily crush you in his hand, yet he smiled at you in an almost sickening way. If it was malicious or a dark grin, you could at least say that you were afraid but the sight left you shivering and confused more than afraid. He could kill you and be over with it. He could chuck you out the door and leave you to fend for yourself, but he was being kind to you. This horrifying hunter that may eventually hunt you down smiled at you as if he were your friend. As if he was a pacifistic hero rather than a psychopathic killer. 

“Would you like me to take you to them? You are injured and I would hate for your injuries to get any worse.” It took you a moment to process the offer. Again, he was showing kindness despite his position. Slowly you shook your head, the movement making you feel a bit dizzy. “Are you certain, little one? You don’t look to be in the best condition to go out and about.” You nodded your head this time. 

You forced yourself to look as confident as you could. Determination blazing in your eyes as the pain screamed in equal fervor. Although he looked a bit upset to do so, the hunter lowered himself slightly, but not all the way. Did he expect you to jump? Even without your wounds you wouldn’t be able to handle a drop like that and get away safely. Biting your ego you glanced over your shoulder. 

“Excuse me,” you croaked, throat still sore from your screams beforehand, “a little lower please?” 

“So it does speak.” You tried not to glare at the green brute, but Optimus quickly did so for you, though his was more patient than what you would have given.

“Bulkhead, please.” 

He lowered his hand a little more, and if this was about an hour or more before, maybe you could have made it easily. Now, however, you had to deal with your wounds and the ringing head your hunter, Arcee, had so gracefully given you. You shuffled to the end of your captor’s fingers and pushed yourself off towards the shaking floor. Your foot just barely made it to the ground, and you released your hold on the hunter’s hand. Despite your care, your eyes were clearly not trustworthy as you landed on your rear, nearly shoving the debris in your back deeper into you. 

“You are not fit to walk alone, little one.” It plucked you back up and held you delicately in it’s two giant metal arms. From an outside perspective, perhaps it could be called a bridal style carry, but in his arms you felt like a frightened animal held in a cage. You couldn’t jump from his arms and run away and you doubted that you’d be able to bang on his chest to convince him to set you down.

Despite the initial discomfort, he did his very best to make the trip easier for you. He walked smoothly and carefully, so as not to rock you about much more than needed and kept a close eye on your movements and actions. If you showed any signs of discomfort he’d slow immediately and ask you how you were feeling. Adjusting his hold to compensate for your injuries. Despite being a hunter, he was truly kind and caring. To treat his own kind, or at least his fellow hunters well was something to be expected, but you were, essentially, the enemy. He had to target you and inevitably harm you. Why go through such lengths to treat you so kindly?

Optimus gave a low hum, the sound of it vibrating against the metal that surrounded you, but a more synthetic feel than if it were air vibrating against flesh. His eyes glanced down to you, tearing itself away from your route and down to scan you once more. It seemed less cautious now and more like an inspection of you, the red lights twitching as he examined you top to bottom.

“Apologies, little one. I think that, in the chaos of your arrival, I must have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.”

“Autobots?”

“Yes, the team of ‘hunters’ you had met before. It’s unfortunate that we came to meet you and your kind in such circumstances.” He really was not making anything any clearer.

“What do you mean by that?” 

Your question went ignored as you passed a small group of survivors, just leaving a room, joking and chuckling, but also wrapped up in bandages. Like a spotlight, the red of Optimus’ gaze washed over them and they immediately fled, turned tail and ran off into some other part of the manor. Their fear did not deter Optimus, and much to your relief it didn’t seem to fuel him either. Instead he pulled a grave face and carried on, pushing past and ducking down to fit past the doorway. 

You strolled right into a blindingly white room.

Survivors filled and surrounded beds, resting or cooling off bruises and minor cuts. You could not see any blood from anyone, and you could only imagine the image you presented them. You stared at a passing group trying to silently convey to them that you were in this situation unwillingly. These survivors were hurt by hunters, and the last thing you’d want is for them to think you’ve sympathized with someone that had harmed them. Although, considering the state you were in, you didn’t have to try hard. You must have looked like a half dead animal hauled back by a cat who wanted to show others the death of their prey. Your fellow survivors starred in fear and horror, some scrambling back, eyes wide, while others stood before their friends acting as a human shield. 

You caught the eye of a woman, dressed in military clothes pointing a gun, a flare gun— the same one you’ve used during your own round— towards yourself and Optimus She looked angry, hateful, the light burning in her eyes enough to rival the bright red glow of the hunter’s gaze, yet the gun was shaking in her hands. The flare gun couldn’t do much to harm the hunter. If she fired it outside of the game, she would likely only aggravate him, and with such a shaky aim, you weren’t certain you would go uncathed. It didn’t seem to matter though. She was driven entirely by emotion at that point, and even though you met her eyes, she did not waver in her glare.   
  
Optimus spared a glance her way, red washing over her body in an instant. As if she were bathed in blood. The hate evaporated in an instant, giving way to unbridled fear and horror. Her hands seized up and the gun fell uselessly from her shaking fingers. You passed her as she collapsed to her knees trembling and sobbing while her friend, bandaged and sitting on a white bed, consoled her.

You finally made it to an empty bed, one all the way at the back of the infirmary, unfortunately for you. Optimus set you down onto the soft mattress, sending you another tender smile while he straightened back up. It was as if he didn’t notice all the stares he called towards you.

“I’ll be seeing you soon then, dear.”

You could already see their eyes flicker suspiciously towards you, while Optimus left you to the survivors. You were lucky enough not to have to deal with their glares for long though, as your team quickly came to your side.

Miko pounced first, slamming her hands on the table and yelling, “what was that about?!” which only made your head ache.

The three of them did not look overly injured to warrant a trip to the infirmary, and despite the burning question Miko and likely the others wanted answered, you could not help but pose your own. 

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Jack is a Nurse, remember?” Raf replied, calmly despite Miko’s impatient foot tapping, which was more like her stomping one foot repeatedly on the ground. Jack himself seemed relatively calm but was much more distracted by your state of being. 

“What happened to you?”

Miko glared at Jack for a few moments, appalled at being ignored. The almost comedic scene seemed to do well at calming the other onlookers, but it attracted more attention as well.

“My rocket chair sent me crashing through the roof of the mansion, and I landed smack down in the middle of the hunters lair. They didn’t hurt me though, just picked me up and walked me here.” Miko raised a brow about to mention something but you beat her to it. “Look, I tried to get back on my own but I was so dizzy from the crash that I couldn’t walk straight. Optimus just plucked me off the ground and walked me here. I couldn’t protest.”

  
You said it loudly, trying to make clear your circumstances. It made you sound almost angry, and Raf flinched back in response. Miko, in contrast, leaned in, trying to challenge your anger. 

“Optimus? You know his name? Also, need I remind you, he called you dear!” Miko shrieked. 

Your head began to spin, the loud volume making your brain feel like disgusting sludge in your skull, the sludge now swirling around thanks to the noise. Did he call you dear? You couldn’t remember.

“Woah. Careful.” Jack was at your side, a few bandages on hand already. “Miko don’t yell. You probably hit your head, and the blood loss is not helping. You’ll need to rest.”

You shook your head, a stupid decision in hindsight, as your headache worsened. Nonetheless you forced yourself to continue.

“Miko, he told me his name on the way here. I think he looks at me as a pet— he keeps calling me ‘little one’.”

“Whatever the situation is-” Jack began removing the debris muttering softly in between sentences- “you are in no condition to continue in these games. You’ll have to sit out awhile.” 

“Am I allowed to?”

They glanced at each other then. Miko became quiet, her lips forming a straight line as her brows twitched, Jack made a quick motion, looking away from you, and Raf just rubbed the back of his head. Around you, you could finally hear the attention drift away from you, people returning to their own work with smirks and smiles plastered on their faces.

“You can.” Raf finally spoke up, but he continued to avoid eye contact, hand slowly slipping from his neck to rest at his side. “You’ll just end up at a disadvantage…”

“You’ll be in last place,” Jack confessed. “We get points after each match— you’re the only one with zero and if you can’t participate in any games, you’ll be put at a severe disadvantage.” 

You could say you were definitely relieved despite your unfortunate position in the race. No amount of a glittering gold prize would make you sacrifice your life. You did need the prize for a chance at a new life, but you couldn’t get a new life if you died. Although resting sounded nice, it also sounded like you were a sitting duck, waiting to be attacked. Without the experience of surviving hunters, if ever one came along for a random attack you’d be unable to get away.

“Is there any way for me to do  _ anything _ ? Anything at all?” 

Raf looked away this time, staring at some tile on the floor and silently counting the scratches or bits of dust that marred the white surface of it. Jack struggled to meet your eyes, his brows twitching as he tried not to show the pity on his face while he shook your head. Miko on the other hand stared at the edge of your bed making faces as she thought things over. With a sudden jump, Miko nearly lept atop of you, only opting to grab your shoulders instead. 

“You can be our spy!” She grinned, a wild and almost evil grin as she shook you back and forth. “You can go and visit the hunters and pretend to be their pet, while slowly learning about them! You’ve gotta tell us any secrets you find out about ‘em ok? And us first ‘cause we’re friends!” 

The shock and budding fear you felt must have shown clearly on your face as Jack and Raf sent a concerned glance to one another before they turned shaking their heads at Miko. 

“Miko, you can’t push that on them! It’s scary enough to have to be so close to the hunters in game, but to put someone in injured—”

“No. They won’t hurt me.” The others turned their expressions back to you, and you could see the sour expression return to the onlookers’ faces. “They— Arcee. The hunter that was in our game. She told the others to return me here. She said, ‘they’ll think we killed one of them,’ as if it’s a bad thing. If I go in, they won’t hurt me. I know that much.”

Jack shook his head, grabbing Miko and raf by the shoulders to stop them from pressing the argument further. “They won’t be able to do anything unless we handle that—” he gestured with his chin while he rolled his sleeves up, but it was clear he was gesturing to the wood in your back— “so we’ll focus on that first.” 

Jack pulled a tray with medical supplies closer to him before he leaned in to grab the protruding object. Tensing up and preparing for the pain may have been the wrong way to handle the experience as instead of the wood, Jack held your shoulder making you jump.

“Try not to think of the wound too much. Less painful that way.” He leaned back, giving you a moment to calm yourself.

Nodding, you divert your attention towards the other things begging to be poked at in your brain. The stares on you made your mind wander back to the wound so you decided to ignore that as well. Probably for the best as you did not want to think about the awful things others thought about you for siding with the hunters— or, well, the Autobots. What exactly were the Autobots? A brand of man made sentient robots perhaps? Or possibly some creature from another world. Whatever they were, Optimus was their leader, and so long as you stayed on his good side you could hopefully remain protected and possibly help prevent others from getting killed as well. Perhaps becoming a spy wasn’t half bad if it meant creating those ties to protect yourself from the Autobots, you would rather be a cute little human pet than some random human that they could kill without caring. 

Whatever the case, Optimus was right; these were unfortunate circumstances. Or… for you at least. Unless the hunters didn't like these circumstances either.... Did that mean—

You screamed when the pain tore through your body, your thoughts coming to a dead halt, the world falling into a blank oblivion with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been a month? It's felt longer than that... 
> 
> I have not been editing this stuff as much as I should. I can't seem to be able to look at what I've written down with the intent to edit it. I don't have problems with this in some of my other works, but I can't bare to do this here. IDK why. 
> 
> Anywho, I think I did better this chapter than I did on the first one, but feel free to point out any mistakes that I may have made. Comments are welcome. 
> 
> I'll see you again eventually :)


	3. The Human Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot to learn about the Autobots. Who are they, how did they get here, and most importantly, why do they play this game?

You retraced your steps as best you could, but your dizzy state, the different perspective of the hallway, and the days that had passed since your injury definitely affected your memory of how to get to the hunter’s lair, as Miko called it. The door was definitely the same, but so were the five others down the hall— not to mention the ten others in the other two hallways. The hallways were definitely not identical, but the way you viewed it, it may as well be.

Your hand hovered by the doorknob, trying to convince yourself that you had most certainly eliminated all other variables and that this door was, in fact, the door that led to their room. Although you told Raf that the hunters would not harm you, you had no actual conformation for that assumption. For all you knew, they may torture you, but leave you pitifully alive, or perhaps it was only because their leader showed kindness to you that the others did not attempt to harm you. If Optimus was not there would they kill you?

“Oh! Hello again little one. Are you lost?” 

It seems you wouldn’t have to worry about that for now. Optimus walked up to you regarding the door you stood at for a moment before he turned his attention to you, smiling softly for you once more. Last you were here, you never stood before him, either lying on the mat or being carried. Now, you could see just how much he towered over you, your head just barely making it past his waist. After a few beats of silence it became apparent that he was awaiting an answer. 

“Oh, I was going to visit you actually, to say thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, then, little one, although I apologize that we were unable to do much to help you and your injuries,” Optimus replied, accepting and denying your thanks with such grace you would be willing to call it an art form.

“No, it’s no problem really. It’s just…” you trailed off looking away as if shy, like a blushing schoolgirl, as Miko had instructed you to do if you needed a moment to think. Doing exactly that, you raked your mind for the story you had been practicing moments ago. “The other survivors didn’t exactly take kindly to me after they saw you enter with me. I was hoping I could have some company with you?”

Optimus all but lit up at the idea, his grin widening for a moment before he schooled it back into tiny curves in the corners of his mouth. He offered his hand again, resting it by your hip in an offer to scoop you up once more. Playing pet, you agreed, with the biggest grin you could muster already feeling your cheeks twitch at the over-exertion. Optimus was not in his room when you arrived— you did not want to think about your friends who he may have hurt with these hands.

“I apologize for ruining your relationship with your fellow humans, but I would be honored to have your company outside of the games.” 

He lifted you gracefully into his arms before he turned away from the door. For a moment a surge of fear flowed through your chest, thinking he may whisk you away into some unknown quarters. He only took a few steps though, opening a different door and carrying you into the Hunter’s Quarters.

The Autobots turned to greet their leader, only for their faces to fall into disgust and irritation, then into calm indifference. In the face of a yellow and black bot, you saw a moment of fear, before it became an almost angry indifference. He turned away from you, storming off to the orange and white bot who threatened to “wield your wounds shut”. Arcee instead, marched up to you her red eyes burning into you.

“What is that doing back here?” She narrowed her eyes as if you had asked to be carried in by her leader. Technically you did, but that didn’t mean you actually wanted to.

“They've been outcast by the others because of me. To make up for it, and keep them from becoming lonely, I’ve agreed to keep them company.” Optimus accepted the blame easily, twisting his words in the same way you did earlier. Only, yours required you to practice and recall, he only took a few moments.

You smiled and nodded, mumbling a soft, “yes, thank you” while Arcee continued your examination. For a moment, her eyes flickered away, examining Optimus for a few beats of your hammering heart. The last time Arcee was this close to you, she hit you and knocked you down. You did not want to go through that again— not while you were given this chance for a break from the game.

Whatever she saw in that glance from Optimus was quick to satisfy her, as she leaned back finally giving you your much needed space. 

“I trust you, Optimus.” She muttered, striding off and returning to work on whatever you had interrupted. 

Optimus simply nodded to her, letting her walk away before he diverted his attention back to you. He gave you a mother sweet smile albeit more quickly as he glanced at the others in the room.

“Is there anything you would like to know? I understand that being among us would raise many questions.” 

You nodded in reply taking a moment to recall what Miko, Raf, and Jack wanted you to know. Most of them were kind of suspicious to ask so quickly though, it would be smarter to play the long game.

“Uh, I never really got a proper introduction from the others…” Optimus nodded, maintaining a straight face.

“We just spoke with Arcee, and the Bot in yellow and black is Bumblebee, our scout. I’m sure you remember Ratchet, our medic who offered to patch you up even if he didn’t exactly know how, and Bulkhead, our wrecker, is out in a game.” You nodded along examining each bot introduced while they tried their hardest to ignore you.

“What is a wrecker?” You asked next.

“They tend to use more brash tactics, such as bombs when they fight against the Decepticons.”

“Decepticons?”

The other bots glanced at Optimus then. Still ignoring you, but they sought to gauge their leader's reaction.

“To tell you, I will have to divulge in our history. Would you be willing to listen?” You nodded slowly tearing your gaze from the others although you caught a glimpse of the medic’s— Ratchet’s scowl.

“As you may guess, we are not from your planet. We are Cybertronians from our own planet called Cybertron. Eons ago, a war broke out amongst our kind between bots who sought to change the oppressive ways of the government, and those who wished to keep it the same. Our planet split into two factions, Decepticons who sought power and would take it with lies and deception, and us Autobots who seek to keep the Decepticons from obtaining their corrupt power. As it stands now, the Decepticons overpowered us in battle, and sought to imprison us as war criminals, putting all the blame from their actions on us. We fled here to earth in order to hide and regroup so that we may fight back against the Decepticons one day.”

You took a moment to digest the information, your eyes wandering away, for a few moments letting the image of his story come to life in your mind, reexamining the story for any gaps you could ask about. 

“Why did you come to earth then?” 

“Earth was one of many planets we fled to. We’ve chosen others before this, planets more uninhabited that we could hide in without disturbing the population, but the Decepticons found us and quickly chased us away. We cannot take residence on just any planet, you must understand. We require energon to survive, and your planet has a good supply of energon to sustain us.”

“Why did you end up here?”

Optimus frowned then, staring at a door a little ways away as his lips twitched, holding back a scowl. “We were unfortunate enough to meet— Ah, you would know him as the… Game Master, if I recall. He had connections to your human leaders, and was willing to call the decepticons to get rid of us, unless we participated in this game. As we did not have enough energon to continue searching for another hospitable hiding place with the decepticons on our trail, we were forced to accept his terms.” Optimus turned to with a lightly concealed expression of sorrow. The formal face military men make before they shoot someone they know did not deserve death. “I apologise for the grievances that I am sure we had caused you and your friends little one. I did see the woman, terrified of what we had done to her and her friend. I regret causing such fear in her.”

For a moment the fear faded away. The autobots were truly caught in unfortunate circumstances, likely just as your fellow survivors were. If what optimus said was true, the Autobots were not the enemies that the survivors had to face. The thought didn’t fail to unsettle you though. They were incredibly quick to dull their emotions and grit their teeth in something they regret doing. Perhaps war did that to the bots… 

Or perhaps this wasn’t the first game that had been set up. 

Horror struck you as your imagination took over. If this was not the first game then what happened to the other humans that had played before you? People were bound to talk about living machinery, and the scandal of a manor doing such horrendous things to people. Unless… were they dead? Did the Game Master kill the survivors that didn’t win? Or perhaps he simply killed them all, regardless of the points players risked their health to obtain. You’ve heard of the upper class doing various dirty deeds, but this took everything to a much more horrific level.

“Optimus, tell me,” you didn’t bother to hide the fear or terror in your eyes anymore, “were there others? Other survivors before us?”    
  


Optimus looked surprised for a moment, his red eyes going wide. His face twisted into a fear that reflected yours for only the briefest of seconds before it was all wrapped up once more, albeit, no longer facing you. You turned to the other bots trying to confirm that Optimus would have been lying but they avoided your gaze as well, staring bitterly into the floor.

“We didn’t kill them.” Ratchet muttered loud enough to catch your attention. He didn’t push it any further than that though, and you turned back to Optimus, silently begging for an explanation. 

“The Game Master wished to keep that ‘satisfaction’ to himself.” The bitterness in his voice struck a chord in your chest, his fingers flexing around you, although forcibly kept away from hurting you, was already enough to paint a clear picture of how much Optimus hated the Game master, and in the same way you’re sure your fellow survivors did. 

For something that was supposed to be a simple thank you and introduction, the whole conversation took a turn for the worse. It was a heavy load to be thrust into your hands, and you almost felt bad knowing you would have to report it all back to the others. For your own safety, however, you forced a brave front for yourself. 

“What happened to the winner of the game?” The question came out far more serious than you intended, although you stood by it, assuring yourself that you would take up the pet persona again if the chance arose.

“They were killed as well.”

The sense of fear and disgust built up in your stomach all over again. This was fruitless. The spying, the ‘teamwork’ was all fruitless if it meant that you would all die in the end. If you played by the rules, you’d end up dead. No getting around it. 

This time you forced yourself to control your reaction. Instead of the brave face you wanted to show, you turned to Optimus with thinly veiled fear, and your best puppy dog stare. Playing the role of a helpless and scared human, which, at the moment wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Is there anything I-- we can do?”

Optimus looked to the others, and you just caught the giddy grin of bumblebee before he turned away from you. Looking to Optimus, he looked particularly pleased with himself as well. Of course he did. He  _ planned _ this. They all did.

  
“Our movements are monitored by the game master. Any acts of treason from us, and he will report our location to the Decepticons. He views you survivors as mere playthings and will likely not pay as close attention to you as he does to us.”

“You want me to be your spy?”

“No, I would not like to put you in such danger. I only ask for you to poke around in and out of the game. Look around and maybe we’ll be able to find a way to escape. I do not wish to be responsible for the death of any more.”   
  


You began to regret sitting in his hand now. All you wanted was to leave, mull over all this information and report it to your fellow survivors. Would that be suspicious though? Would he think you were telling others? What if he was telling the truth, and the game master heard about it? You swallowed the growing bile in your throat and forced another smile. 

“Can I think about it?” 

Optimus smiled again, his other hand coming up to pat you on the head. “Of course little one.” 

* * *

That was arguably the longest and scariest thirty minutes of your life. Optimus refused to let you go the entire time. He’d always be petting you and coddling you, always referring to you as ‘little one’. Always making it clear that he was bigger, stronger and far more dangerous than you were. You only managed to escape because of Bulkhead, and the fit he threw upon seeing you at their base again. You took the chance to feebly mutter that you ought to leave, and you encouraged Optimus to put you down, before you ran out into the hallway making hasty farewells as you went.

You didn’t care what happened after you left, maybe you wouldn’t be able to return because you were so rude, but you could see Optimus’ fingers twitch at Bulkhead’s arrival. If you weren’t careful, he could have easily crushed you. If not then Bulkhead might have crushed you himself. 

You fled back to the infirmary not stopping until you were back safely within those white walls as far from the door as you could be. You practically dove back into your bed ignoring the trio you had just shoved aside to get there.

“You made it back!” Miko gaped. Only for Jack to elbow her hard in the side. 

“Everything alright?” Raf jumped up sitting on the end of your bed. “What happened with the hunters?” 

You stared at them a moment. They seemed so calm and nonchalant. Weren’t they in a game? Didn’t they have to face off those hunters? It was surely terrifying for them, wouldn’t they be able to understand that your time in their lair was even worse?

Nonetheless you divulged as much as you could muster, words spilling forth without a filter. You didn’t bother keeping your voice down and you could see the others reacting as Jack, Miko and Raf did. Others however, seemed more angry by the end of it rather than terrified. 

“So.. What you’re saying is that they don’t want to do this? They’re being forced to?” Jack asked by the end of it. Miko stared down as frightened as she was during the first game and Raf had begun to shake as well. Jack didn’t look any better, but he was able to keep his voice even at the very least.

“Shut the hell up.” The woman from before, the one who threatened to shoot Optimus glared at you from across the room. She looked badly injured this time, but that didn’t stop her from crawling to the edge of her bed and nearly tearing the curtain around it to glare you down. “You freaking idiot. They’re lying. There is no way in hell they’re being forced to do anything. If you believe that enough to spread your propaganda here, you’re more of a traitor than I thought.” She began to crawl out of her bed, tearing the curtains as she leaned against them. “Now get the hell out! Traitor! Go back to your monsters! The infirmary should be used for people who actually need it!”

  
The curtain ripped, and as her support, she fell down with it landing on an injured shoulder. She screamed in pain and agony as she fell, her friends rushing to her aid. The entire time she wouldn’t stop glaring at you. With the same fire and hatred from when she glared at Optimus. Only this time she didn't bow to her fears, you were nothing scary compared to Optimus, and although maybe not as dangerous as it could have been if she fired her gun, she threw it at you. 

For the second time today, you fled. Only, this time, you had nowhere to flee to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's birthday it is this week!! So, for my present to all of you, I gift you this new chapter! We've learned a lot about the bots now and things are finally about to get real. Who tells the truth and who is lying? Will you take the side of the hunter or survivor? I wonder, I wonder.


	4. Most Certainly not a traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a reason why you complied with the Autobots. No matter what your fellow survivors said, you were not a traitor. Surely your help would help them in the long run—
> 
> And maybe, just maybe, if you keep lying to yourself, it might come true.

Your feet carried you away to all sorts of corners of the Mansion. You found rooms filled with broken rocket chairs and scrap metal. Rooms of medicine and drugs, but no room that wasn’t visited or passed by a survivor who glared at you as you ran by. You finally made it to what seemed to be an abandoned hallway and you ran into the nearest room. Not bothering to turn on the lights for fear of finding something unsavoury, you stay by the door, the sliver of light dripping from the bottom of the door the only light you allowed yourself in this silent, personal oblivion.

You don’t know when you dozed off exactly, the darkness behind your eyelids the same as the darkness of the room around; until it wasn’t. Light poured through your eyelids, and gave you a massive headache. How long has it been since you’ve had something to drink? No, that’s not the right question— Who turned on the lights? Your brain went from sleepy, dehydrated irritation to sudden terror and discomfort. You were still on hard metal so maybe someone just found you and turned on the lights, like the jerks they were. You forced your eyes open, intent on finding the light switch or getting up and leaving in case you had company, but those plans were gone in an instant as you found who you were with. You were sitting on some metal slab, and only a few paces away, Optimus sat, eyes closed and a soft rumble coming from his chest. 

He was sleeping. Or recharging— did robots need to sleep?

Alien robots do, you decided, sitting up on the metal slab to keep on observing him. The metal of his chest raised and lowered marginally as he breathed. Except it wasn’t breathing. You could hear the soft whirr of fans resonating in the otherwise silent room, which likely facilitated his robot not-breathing-breaths. Without the usual horror of his bright red eyes, Optimus looked strangely soft-- as soft as he could be with metal flesh that is. His shoulders slumped over in a tired relaxed manner, nothing like the soldier straight stance he took on during his waking hours. His face looked much softer too, relaxed, not strained holding back smiles or frowns. He looked peaceful, revealing to you the barely noticeable stress he held onto while awake. 

“He’s actually…” You turned to the other end of the room where another door, presumably one that led to the main room for the hunters, was open. In the doorway, the orange and white bot— Ratchet if you could recall— stood gaping at the sight of his unconscious leader. It took him a few moments before he turned his gaze to you, his surprise quickly melting into a calm, albeit grouchy expression. “He never gets the rest he needs,” he huffed, shaking his head and walking over towards you. At the first few paces you scrambled back, expecting Ratchet to grab you, or worse hit you. He stopped in his tracks raising a brow and raising his hands to show off what he was carrying. A small cup of water, one which he seemed to be offering to you. 

He didn’t infringe on your fear any more than need be. Instead, he resumed walking at a very slow pace, as if approaching a frightened bird, and set the tray at the end of the metal slab. He didn’t offer a smile, but a simple nod before he went back to the door and leaned against the frame, silently observing his leader. 

You followed his gaze to continue to watch the sleeping titan, marvelling at the slow rise and fall of his chest, and more importantly, the almost organic bend of the metal. Could metal even do that? 

“I apologize for the…” he paused searching for a suitable word, “info dump, Optimus presented you with before. Times aren’t as simple as they were before.” He sighed, shaking his helm once again.

“What they were before?” you parroted back at him, throat sore from the lack of water. You really needed that cup. You crawled to the end of the slab and took the cup before scurrying back, as Ratchet’s optics flickered towards you in the process.

“It’s much harder to talk to you humans when we are perceived as such a great evil. We’re already alien entities to you, making the rift between us much larger. Because of that, when you came along to listen to us, Optimus hoped you would be able to help us like humans did before we were a bounty to be hunted down by the Decepticons.”

“A bounty?” 

He raised a brow at you once more, visibly biting back a cutting remark, as he opened his mouth only to snap it back closed. “Don’t even think about trying,” he managed in the end, eyes narrowing into thin slits.

You wanted to protest, to assure him that you wouldn’t and press for more information, but he simply turned and left, shutting the door behind him and leaving you with the unconscious leader once more. 

It would have been nice to have some company to share information with. To try and organise the information with, but at this point of time, talking to yourself would have to work. First of all, could you trust the Autobots? Their story stood well considering your circumstances, and they all seemed to tell the same story— although they could easily have planned the story out beforehand. They were fugitives from their own planet, in order to get away and sneak away it would be helpful to have a story that everyone knew to lie about when hiding. What could happen if they were lying? Would it really affect you? Again, they have yet to kill you so they may not want that. At the very least, they may make you some sort of human pet. If they were telling the truth however, you and your fellow humans could end up dead. Although being stuck as a human pet for all eternity sounded bad, so long as you were alive, there was still a chance of escape. Even if there was something worse awaiting you, you were going to be allowed to do some investigation. If you came up with any shred of evidence that may indicate you were in danger you could easily flee back to the other survivors and beg them to save you. If that didn’t work you suppose you could lure the Autobots to them and hope to be included in the fray when they go to save themselves. 

You were stirred from your thoughts as you heard engines pick up and the loud thump of Optimus’ footstep. He got up off the floor, albeit still in a sleepy fashion, wobbling back and forth a little. He took notice of you immediately, and as always he offered you that small smile. 

“Did you sleep well, little one?”

  
You’re used to him, having been carried around by him twice, that you don’t flee from him in the same way that you did from Ratchet. Instead, you hang your head in an almost defeated manner, expecting to be scooped up all over again. Instead, he leaned towards you, and carefully brushed your cheek a little. That was it. That was all he did. He did not pick you up, he did not pat your head as you thought he might, considering your place as a pet. Instead he simply brushed a finger against your cheek, and leaned back. You recalled he asked a question, and in a slight scramble, you spoke up in reply.

“Ah, yes. It was… fine,”  _ as fine as it could be on a metal slab. _ “How was your sleep?”

He smiled, pleased at your reply. Or, perhaps, pleased that you were here. “That is good to hear. If I may ask, little one, why did you come into my room?”

Ah, so this was his room. Did the other bots have their own rooms too? You were VERY lucky to have wandered into his room and not Arcee’s. 

“I didn’t know it was your room, sorry.”

His gaze softens on you. The light is no less bright, but he makes an expression of pure, and soft concern, all while upholding the same gentle smile. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about little one. I am only curious as to why you were resting on the floor, rather than in a bed.” 

Your eyes fell away from his face and onto the ground. Could you tell him? Would that be safe? If you mentioned an argument wouldn’t it seem like there was disagreement between teammates that they could possibly use to their in game advantage? Although problems were currently transcending the game, you wanted to prevent needless harm during the games especially if his information was a lie.

“I… I’ve been outcast by the other humans. They deemed me a traitor.”

You looked down, pouting as you played the victim. You didn’t need to mention the few on your side or who specifically went against you and what they did, instead you could keep the problem to only being aimed at you for the time being. 

Something flashed in Optimus’ eyes. They widen, and his smile turns into a frown. It all happens within a second, and you find yourself wondering if it was from surprise or something else. You don’t have enough time to think about that, however, as Optimus carefully takes your hand in his. He stares at you, not with the wide eyes you glimpsed before, but intense regardless. The smile does not return to his face, making you all the more uncomfortable in his gaze. 

“I apologize.” You paused a moment, confused. It must have shown on your face as he was quick to explain. “It was my own fault; and due to my careless display when I first met you. I thought it could have been a good way to show the other humans that we did not mean any harm, but it only caused them to lose faith in you. For that I apologize. I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if you do not.” 

It took you a moment to process what was told before you hastily replied, “Wait, no! I don’t blame you! It’s alright, really.”

It wasn’t. He was right, it was his fault that you had been looked down on like that. He paraded you in like a trophy. Yet you couldn’t deny that the other survivors were likely to look down on you and shove you around anyways. They were all highly regarded in their fields and looked smug when you were placed at a disadvantage to play the game. Not that you wanted to play anymore; there were bigger things you had to take care of.

Optimus looked as if he still wanted to apologize, his thumb delicately rubbing against your hand.

“If it would make you more comfortable, I do not mind if you would stay here. I still have the mattresses you landed on when you arrived and if you need anything we would be happy to provide.”

Admittedly, you didn’t want to crawl back to the infirmary and be ridiculed all over again, and if you were with Optimus, perhaps you could poke around and see if you could find any more information or clues. Yes, you could get closer to him and if he was lying you could be able to convince him to do otherwise or at least give yourself enough time to scramble away. For now, at the very least, his hands were warm and gentle. He did not resent you. That was enough of a reason to stay for now.

Yes, you would stay to keep yourself safe. That’s all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as paperstarwriters, for occasional and sporadic updates on my works.
> 
> Identity V is a 1 vs 4 asymmetrical horror video game similar to the game dead by daylight. In the game you follow a detective seeking to uncover the mysteries of a peculiar Manor and the strange games that occurred there. While this story takes place in the same setting I am not following along the same plot. The game leaves many mysteries unsolved and up to interpretation so I am taking various creative liberties to fit the TFP crew inside. Have fun, and if you want to try playing Identity V you can friend me! My username is Etoile, but I warn you that I'm unfortunately not online much.


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